


Party of Three

by astudyinfic



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, F/M, M/M, Multi, two otps and one brotp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-10 12:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3290093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astudyinfic/pseuds/astudyinfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1940, Bucky Barnes loves his best friend Steve Rogers.<br/>1964, the Winter Soldier loves a Black Widow.<br/>In 2015, can the three of them make it work?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Past

_****Brooklyn, 1940_

"Please tell me you aren't serious," Bucky grumbled, standing on the dock next to Steve and looking up at the building in front of them. Boards were starting to fall from the former warehouse, the whole thing looking decrepit. However, that was not the concern Bucky felt standing next to his small friend. No, his big issue was the crowd of people standing where a door at the second floor had been. Several stood still, drinks in hand, watching as the more daring among them ran and jumped into the icy Brooklyn water beneath them.

Steve's eyes, on the other hand, lit up with excitement each time one of them young men or women made the leap, arms and legs flailing until they hit the water with a brilliant splash. Each one came up sputtering and shivering but nearly every one of them went back for a second time. "Of course I'm serious. If we can do Coney Island, we can do this." Bucky regretted ever taking Steve on that ride considering the other teen had used it as an excuse to get his friend to do anything he wanted fro the next several years.

He watched another man fly from the opening as the people on top cheered and screamed in excitement. It did look like fun but there were many reasons to not do it, the primary one standing directly beside him. "What about you asthma? I can't imagine a temperature change like that is good for the lungs." "I'll be fine, Buck. I've thought it all out. If I am going to join the Army next year, I need to be prepared for anything, including cold water. I'm going to do it, with or without you." If Bucky never heard about the army again, it would be alright with him. Not that he didn't plan on signing up the moment he was old enough but for Steve it had become an all-encompassing goal, the one thing that was going to pull him away from each and every illness that followed him around and would prove his worth to the world. Bucky knew his friend often felt as if he was holding people back, that without him his parents would have had more money or Bucky would have managed to keep a girlfriend for more than a week. But Bucky knew that neither Steve's parents nor himself ever regretted one moment with the young Rogers. He was Bucky's best friend and closest companion.

He couldn't imagine a life without Steve and if it meant doing idiotic things like jumping into the Hudson on a cold April morning to be sure that Steve managed to get back to shore, so be it. Grinning the lopsided smile that made Steve blush and often times punch him in the shoulder, Bucky began to unbutton his shirt, "Fine. But just so you know, I'm taking you back to Coney next weekend. If you are going to keep throwing that back at me, I'm at least going to enjoy it." Steve laughed and pulled off his shoes and once more they were racing off to another of Steve's harebrained plans that often ended up being significantly more fun and death defying than either of them truly understood before starting. Standing on the top of building, Bucky looked out into the water before turning back to look at his friend, "Last chance. You know there are other ways to test your cold tolerance. I bet Mr. Williams would let you ride around in the back of his truck if you asked nicely."

Steve rolled his eyes and shook his head, pulling off the last of his outer clothes and leaving them in a pile to be reclaimed after the jump. "You're either with me or you're against me Barnes. Take your pick." The spindly man glanced down at the water and nodded once.

That was all Bucky needed because once Steve Rogers made up his mind, nothing was going to stop him. Bucky placed his clothes next to Steve's. He laced his hand with that of his friend and nodded, "Together?" "Together," Steve agreed and they took a running leap off the ledge. Air rushed past their ears and then the cold burst as they hit the water. Bucky never once let go of Steve's hand and the moment they had both surfaced, he pulled his small friend to him, treading water to keep them both afloat. "Alright?" Steve nodded but his breath was coming in short bursts and Bucky could tell that his asthma had reacted just the way he had expected.

The knowledge that Steve was suffering what appeared to be an asthma attack spurred Bucky into action. He swam to the best of his ability, carrying his smaller friend with him until they got to the edge of the water. "Someone get me a blanket!" he yelled to the small group who had gathered on the shore to watch the jumpers. A couple nodded and ran off, leaving Bucky to tend with Steve. "You never do listen, do you?"

That earned a chuckle from his struggling friend, the cold now seeping into Steve's bones and sending his slender frame into shudders in an attempt to warm up. "You love me for it," was his cheeky remark, even with his breathing labored.

As loathe as Bucky was to admit it, Steve's fearlessness in the face of everything that could kill him was a big part of what kept the pair so close. If the roles had been reversed, Bucky was not sure that he wouldn't be at home, wallowing in self pity instead of jumping off buildings and riding roller coasters. Steve wasn't afraid of anything and his bravery made Bucky feel brave by association. "Yes, I suppose I do." A grin had found its way on to Bucky's face as well, despite his best efforts to be stern. "But stop trying to kill yourself. I've never met a smaller man more intent on his own destruction." "You've just never met a smaller man than me," Steve laughed, sitting up as his breathing slowly returned to normal, though the shivering still wracked his entire body. Finally the men brought a blanket to them and Bucky wrapped it around Steve's shoulders, escorting him back to the building where they left their clothes. One arm draped casually around Steve's shoulders, trying his best not to shiver. Bucky liked to think he was the strong one of the two but they both knew deep down that Steve was ten times stronger. What he lacked in muscles, he made up for in conviction. They redressed silently, away from the crowd so they could take off the soaked under things and replace them with the warm dry clothes they still had remaining. It wasn't until they were fully dressed and Steve looked like he would make a full recovery that Bucky pulled his smaller friend into his arms, kissing the top of Steve's head and letting out a soft sob. "Why do you do this to me? If I lose you..." The words died in his throat and Bucky shook his head, trying to rid himself of the very thought.

"You won't lose me. Barnes and Rogers. We go together. Can't have one without the other," Steve joked and leaned into the embrace, allowing Bucky's body heat to soak into his body.

Bucky in return held Steve closer and for a moment they simply stood there, arms tight around the other, the sound of the crowd and the jumper faint in this part of the abandoned building. "Stay at mine tonight?" Bucky asked. "The folks would love to have you." His own private desire to keep Steve close and make sure he was alright remained unsaid but both men knew the truth. Most days Steve refused but this time he nodded, "I'd like that. Any chance your mother is making stew?" He grinned cheekily at his friend and surged up to give Bucky a quick kiss. "Either way, we need to swing past the market so I can pick up a cake to thank her for having me." Bucky rolled his eyes and released his hold on Steve, though one arm remained firmly over the man's shoulders. "I tell you every time that you don't have to do that. You are practically family. She doesn't expect anything from you."

"And I tell you every time that I am going to do it whether I need to or not. It is the proper thing to do, Buck."

Kissing Steve's temple, Bucky simply laughed at the easy conversation between them. This was natural, easy. What they had between them went past friendship. Their relationship was deeper, stronger than anything either man had ever experienced and while both maintained that there was a woman out there for each of them, in the end, they turned back to each other. No matter what the future brought, there would always be the two of them.

Steve and Bucky. Barnes and Rogers. They were inseparable. Many commented that they appeared to share one mind and one soul, the rationality of the two in Bucky's body while the heart was in Steve's. Together, they were unstoppable.

_Siberia, 1964_

The snow swirled around in a vortex, making sight nearly impossible but still she pressed forward.  Siberia in winter was not the typical choice for a romantic retreat but neither of them were typical people.  Snow crunching under her footfalls, head bowed against the biting wind, the Black Widow made her way to the small cabin hidden from view simply by the snow and the fact that no one dared come here at this time of year.  The perfect location for a rendezvous that one wished to keep hidden from your trainers, from the Leviathan, from the KGB itself.  The Black Widow agents were not supposed to have attachments but Natasha had never been one for cutting herself off entirely.

The inside of the cabin seemed a mirror image to the outside, warm and inviting, the only snow melting off the pair of boots discarded next to the door.  Natasha shrugged offer her own attire, layer after layer left to dry as she stepped farther into the one room home, standing next to the fire to warm herself while glancing around for the man she had come to meet.  Both were used to living their lives in the shadows and her eyes fell on him in the corner, watching her intently with no show of emotion or recognition.  “Yasha,” she sighed, a slight smile tugging at her lips.

Not until she spoke the name did the man show any sign of emotion, his smile barely visible but for her, it was enough.  He walked closer, each step deliberate and echoing through the small room, pausing only when he stood in front of her.   The hat and hood she wore on the trek to the cabin had caused her hair to come undone and he reached out a metal arm, tucking a stray strand being her ear.  “Nat?”   Natasha smiled and nodded, knowing he needed to reconnect, to remember that this was real.  It was a side effect of the training they both went through.  Sometimes she needed the time, other times he did.  If neither of them remembered, well, they didn’t know what happened then.  The reprogramming they went through every time effectively washed away those memories.

She let him run his hands over her face, her hair.  With each touch, each breath he came back to her, no longer the trained assassin, or at least not primarily.  As he grew more confident in his knowledge of her, so did his touches until both were groping, pulling at the clothes they both wore, stumbling towards the bed that occupied the majority of the cabin.  Lips met in furious, biting kisses as they reclaimed the other’s body for themselves.  The snow and wind hid the noise of their passion from any who dared to venture close to the cabin in such a storm.

Later, curled together in the bed, they spoke in hushed tones of what they remembered of what had happened since they were last together.  Memory wipes were common and as soon as the KGB realized the two had broken their training, they would be reset, sent back to the world to kill and conquer in the name of Soviet supremacy.  But here in this cabin, they could be Nat and Yasha, two ordinary people who lived extraordinary lives.

“I was training to be a ballerina,” Natasha sighed, back pressed to the soldier’s side as she played with the fingers on his good hand.  “I think.  It’s rather a blur but I remember being exhausted at the end of each day, trying to make myself better.”  There were large blanks in her memories, no recollection of how she got into dance, moving to the academy.  Just images of ballerinas, rows of them, pirouettes and arabesques.  But locked in with ballet was blood, and death, and screaming.  Those were the scenes that had her waking in the middle of the night, gasping for breath and crying out for parents who have not lived for many years.  Those were the images that disappeared first when rewiped.  The blood and the death, along with the love and affection.  When you are a Black Widow, your life is darkness and loneliness.  Nothing matters except Mother Russia - most certainly, not yourself.

“Can you dance?” her partner asked, rolling to wrap his arms around her waist and to press his face to her vibrant red hair.  She was his anchor, the one who could keep him from slipping back into killer mode.  He knew he would have enjoyed watching her on stage.  Sitting in the audience with a smaller blond man next to him.  Where did that thought come from?  Occasionally the man appeared in his thoughts, slipping away as easily as he came.  Sometimes he was small and weak, other times he was large and strong.  Every time, the soldier knew he loved that man as deeply as he loved the woman who currently lay in his arms.  Love.  It wasn’t supposed to be possible for them.  They were supposed to be emotionless killers and yet, he knew without a doubt that every time he remembered being with Natasha, they fell in love once more.

Nat fell quiet, thinking about it.  “I think I can.  It’s not that much different from everything else we do.”  Both her and her lover’s bodies were highly trained machines, capable of doing practically anything asked of them.  It worked well in the field and in the bedroom.  Natasha could not see why it wouldn’t work on the stage as well.  “I do not know, however.  I have no desire to try.”  To try could mean to fail.  To fail would be to acknowledge that the warmer, more pleasant memories she held of her childhood were simply illusions placed there by their trainers.  Yasha knew as well as she did that that nothing they remembered might be real but both clung tightly to those memories that made their lives seem just a fraction happier.

The two rested quietly, arms wrapped around each other.  Rarely did they exchange kisses.  The partnership was founded more on passion, violence and a shared missing past.  Romance was not something either had time for.  A romantic entanglement was a liability, even if they were wiped and reset after each encounter.  Eventually, memories of the other came back and that could be used against them.  Nat was called a Black Widow.  She was supposed to leave no one behind.  Love them, kill them, move on.  Yasha was the Winter Soldier – cold and impersonal, a killing machine with no emotion.  But together, the two of them found that which they were not supposed to be capable of.  Affection.

Eventually the two fell asleep, the only sounds in the cabin was the crackling fire, the howling wind and the soft breath of two assassins.  When the sun rose over the bleak landscape, the two would dress and go out into the world without a word, never knowing the next time they would meet.  Saying goodbye was painful when you knew that the next time you saw each other, you may not even recognize the one you loved.  But a quick glance between them spoke of all the emotion they held; the pain, the love, the desire and the fear.  

  
The Winter Soldier turned to look over his shoulder, the last image he had was her red hair blowing out from the edge of her hood.


	2. The Present

_D. C., 2015_  
After Hydra and the fall of SHIELD and everything else that had happened, Steve and Sam and tracked down the Winter Soldier at Nat’s urging. She knew his feelings for the man under the war paint and Steve got the feeling that she wanted them to do it so Bucky would be brought in alive. Others from SHIELD would not have been so understanding.  
In fact, when they finally found Bucky outside Baltimore, having not gotten very far with HYDRA in shambles and unable to help him, Natasha directed them to a safehouse Steve had never been before, one that turned out to belong to Black Widow and not SHIELD.

That had been the beginning of the strangest weekend of a life defined by strange. As Bucky came out from the influence of HYDRA, Steve saw glimpses of the man he knew and loved. But he also saw something reflected in Natasha’s own eyes as she looked at the Winter Soldier. When she thought he wasn’t looking, Steve saw Nat brush the hair from Bucky’s face, to sit and hold his hand, whispering in Russian. The way she looked at Bucky was the way Steve looked at Bucky, as if he was the love of her life.

The story eventually came out. Natasha’s own experience with the serum - stolen from HYDRA by Leviathan, like so many other things - her age being closer to Steve and Bucky’s then Clint or Maria. The missions involving Winter Soldier where they weren’t always on opposing sides. The fact that she wanted to save Bucky for the same reason she had for saving Clint, she loved him. And that wasn’t something Steve could fault her for. He had loved Bucky and he had loved Peggy; the love for one had never effected the love for the other.

Bucky, for his part, looked rather terrified to be in the same room with two lovers at the same time. The HYDRA programming made it difficult for him to tell how much time had passed so in his mind the time with Steve, the time with Nat and now were one and the same. The conversation that followed led to them being in an unusual relationship but one that left all parties content. It was still burgeoning but all were happy. Bucky was never alone, either Cap or Widow taking a mission but never both, leaving the other home with the man they both loved.

Captain Rogers kept his hat pulled down over his eyes and collar turned up. Not that he minded the attention – the kids in particular made him smile on a daily basis – but sometimes he just wanted to be a normal man, not a super hero. “How’s he doing?” Natasha asked, red hair pulled back in a ponytail and sipping her coffee. She appeared relaxed and at ease but Steve knew better. He could see the tension in her back, the way one hand rested near her weapon, always ready. Her eyes darted around, constantly evaluating and searching for danger. Natasha had the poise of a seasoned veteran but appeared to be about twenty five. She was an enigma to many and one that he was proud to call his friend.

Nat, having just returned from a mission in Uganda had suggested coffee, something that had been a tradition for the two since Fury’s resurrection and everything that followed. It gave them a chance to connect and compare. Steve found that when Bucky went to Natasha, he wasn’t jealous but pleased that his friend had a love as strong as his. And often the three would curl up on the sofa - Nat in Bucky’s arms, Bucky in Steve’s - to simply watch a film or exist. They found that life with three super soldiers did not need to be a constant battle; in fact their home was peaceful and content.

“He missed you but he’s good. He discovered some show from twenty years ago called the A-Team. I suppose I should say we both discovered it. I don’t think we’ve turned the television off since then. He’s with Fury right now, going through the same debriefing I had when they thawed me.”

Nodding, Natasha took a sip of her coffee, “Good. The more he knows the better it will be when we explain his role in a lot of the major events. Fury wants me to be the one to explain that to him. I would expect that he will need some time after that. I remember how hard it was for me to remember everything I had done.”

Steve’s own experience with debriefing had been different. There weren’t hundreds or thousands of deaths in his ledger that he could not remember. He didn’t wake in a cold sweat, the screams of his victims still ringing in his ears. Even on nights when Bucky came to him instead of her, Steve always went to her room to say good night. And if he saw the cuffs hanging from the headboard, he would stay, reading a book or simply dozing to give her some sense of security. They only came out when she was feeling unstable and they were the only way anyone could know that she was anything other than one hundred percent.

“Tony wants us to come to New York. Thor is back and he decided a large party is in order at the tower. Clint already RSVP’d for all of us.”

Natasha rolled her eyes at that. Leave it to Clint to make decisions that involved everyone - and free food. She nodded, “I think that will be fine. It’s time Yasha met the rest of them anyway.” Nat still used his Russian name, as did Clint who often followed her lead. Clint and Bucky had become friends, spending time playing video games and being frat boys together. Natasha wasn’t allowed to play as she often kicked their assees and Steve preferred to watch then get in the middle of their squabbles.

They fell silent for awhile, lost in their own thoughts of the team, Bucky, and the past. For Natasha, sharing a lover was not unheard of. As a Black Widow, it wasn’t unusual for her to sleep with fellow agents or marks who also had lovers on the side. For Steve, it was newer but nothing that hadn’t been through his mind before. However, he had always assumed he would be the one with a boyfriend and a girlfriend. Bucky and Peggy had always gotten along well and for that brief moment when they were both alive and the world was right, a relationship with both of them had seemed like the best of both worlds to Captain America.

“Have you told Tony about Bucky?” Natasha asked, breaking the silence between them. “It is probably going to be necessary to make some changes to Avenger’s tower.” Both of them had floors in the tower that were their homes when in New York. Captain America was closer to the top while Black Widow was near the bottom. If Bucky was going to become a full member of the team, like they both hoped, or would simply be traveling with them, he would need a place to stay.

“We haven’t discussed it fully yet but it sounds like Tony is planning on remodeling a floor for Buck. Somewhere between ours and in a more secure part of the tower so he doesn’t feel exposed or threatened.” Stark could be thoughtless and hard-headed at times but when it came to members of the team, he cared more than he let on and made sure that each and every one of them felt comfortable in the homes he provided for them.

Nodding, Natasha left it at that, knowing that Tony would make sure it was all in hand and wouldn’t do anything without consulting the three of them first. “And he knows about us? The three of us? Four I suppose if you count Clint as well.”

“Yes, he says anything for team unity though he expressed some displeasure at not being able to join. Miss Potts hit him on the back of the head and apologized on his behalf.” The smirk on Nat’s face told Steve that she more than approved of Pepper’s methods. “Thor and Bruce have also been informed and I was told they are happy to accept him into our ranks as well.”

Natasha smiled, looking back over the crown and thinking how strange this life was. The man she risked being wiped for over and over again, and the man she considered her second real friend after escaping the Black Widow program becoming the two people she was closest to in the world. Being a member of a team where her abilities were appreciated and her past accepted without question.

If a Black Widow agent, a graduate of the Red Room, could find a happy ending, this was it. Loved by two men and accepted by many. For once in her life, Natasha Romanoff finally felt peace.


End file.
